


He Kisses Me like I'm Art and He's the Canvas

by Serenittybittydipity



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Smut, Im in the let historia get dicked down club, Mentions of past yumihisu, Modern AU, Smut, eren is an artist
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-17
Updated: 2021-02-17
Packaged: 2021-03-12 03:00:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,904
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29503056
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Serenittybittydipity/pseuds/Serenittybittydipity
Summary: He pauses to glance down at her, and when his eyes meet hers, there's a gleam there that reminds her of the hands he pressed on her, like he pressed to paper, and made her feel like a masterpiece.Modern artist and model college AU smut
Relationships: Krista Lenz | Historia Reiss/Eren Yeager
Comments: 21
Kudos: 196





	He Kisses Me like I'm Art and He's the Canvas

He's an artist in the sense that never took too much effort and it's something that infuriates and enraptured her. Makes her burn in both envy and wonder.

Back in high school, Eren was always caught firmly in the middle of his childhood best friends, moving so in sync it was like watching an actual natural phenomenon appear in their environment. He moved, they followed at his sides, rarely breaking position. Historia only ever noticed him because she always had something snide and bored to think to herself when she first caught the trio moving from lunch to class their freshman year.

Sophomore year and the acknowledgement of mutual existence hadn't progressed besides recognizing names and places in the school hierarchy. He was a nobody besides the unusual way he and his three friends moved. Some kind of biology connection that would probably be funny if Historia didn't pay Reiner to do her homework for her. 

Junior year they had chemistry class together, she sat next to him because she knew no one else in the class and she was sour because as much as she thought her dad had pull in the school, it was absolutely ridiculous why she couldn't have her girlfriend in the same classes as her. 

He never spoke much, he at least did the class work, but besides the occasional nod of acknowledgement, small chatter when they got paired up for class projects, never paid her much mind. 

He just doodled when he caught up on the class packet work and home work and left her to struggle on her own with a smirk. All the bribes she casually threw his way never seemed to draw even an eyebrow raise. He'd shake his head, maybe. But ignore her.

Boredom in class is what got her to pay attention to him since there was nothing else worth looking at. Under that mop of black hair, he was a looker. Throw some facial hair and maybe she'd consider batting her eyelashes at him. But that's not what caught her attention.

He always carried with him a black and heavily used composition notebook, white splotched rorschach design filled in with different colored inks. She assumed it was where he wrote his notes. He never let her see, casually turning the cover at her to hide whatever he was busy doodling inside. And then one day he got up because a teacher abruptly called him out of class. He simply sighed to himself and stood, leaving the curious thing behind.

Historia had nothing better to do and could care even less about the electromagnetic spectrum or whatever, so she leaned over and flipped it over.

And her eyes burst wide with a newfound curiosity that never existed elsewhere.

Each page was an ecstatic series of doodles and word art that flawlessly melted together, one page had the entire face of a puma perfectly drawn and filled in with words--something like Dante's inferno--as the shading. Carefully, Historia thumbed through the pages finding figures and creativity so unique it made her burn with wonder as well as envy.

She didn't even realize he had come back until she caught a page with a face that looked almost like hers until he snatched it from her hands and hissed angrily,

" _Don't_ touch my stuff."

It was the first time anyone had ever talked to her like that. Cowed, Historia mumbled an apology and didn't dare bring it up after that. He stopped showing up with it after that.

Whatever conversation she wished she had with him never came and the year ended. 

Neither close nor far. Indifferent but more aware of each other.

Senior year came and went and Eren didn't share any more classes with her. He had stretched out since freshman year, gaining enough height and even more hair that left most girls and guys staring. But he never looked back at her again. That was disappointing. 

But Historia didn't just look at him for his appearance or even the blob like way his friends hovered around him. At some point her interest in the rumor that he and Armin and Mikasa were polyamorous disappeared all together.

All she could think about was the art he was capable of and seemed to flawlessly create but never openly broadcast.

A special talent he guarded like a jealous secret.

Did his friends know what was in those pages? Did they see how his mind gathered the mindless goings-on from his classes and compiled them into something actually beautiful?

She supposed she would never know... but boy was she dying to.

Well the universe heard her desire and decided to make it come true.

Her relationship with Ymir fell apart not long after high school ended and she went off to college, Ymir disappeared to build schools or plant trees or whatever she wanted to do in third world countries. It wasn't her business nor did she care.

(That was a lie. It took two years to get over Ymir leaving her in a failed relationship.)

She had found herself taking classes for a degree she found no interest in. Her humanities class was offering extra credit in offering services to people in the arts department, and she ended up volunteering as a model for an art class. 

Nothing racy. Just some posing (luckily with all her clothes on). 

She sat in a lounge chair and had free water and snacks. Easy credit.

And then she saw him again. Eren Yeager, his hair down to his shoulders and pulled up into a man bun that should have been so dumb but looked so attractive with his stupid facial hair and ear piercing. He just casually showed up and took his seat by his art station, and then his eyes looked up and met hers...

And he didn't recognize her.

Just stared and did nothing as others stood and directed her into position. Sketched quietly, sat by himself, and all the while she felt like an idiot trying not to openly glance in his direction.

The session ended. He left promptly and she tried to give chase but the other students wanted to socialize and she couldn't say no. She had a reputation to uphold after all.

The second session he was a no show. (Dammit and she spent good money on the make up she wore that day.)

The third session he arrived, same behavior, sketching quietly. At this point she all but gave up and decided he just didn't recognize her. Until he stood up, approached her as she sat in the lounge chair and looked at her for a long moment that made her squirm.

"Cross your legs," he said and his voice was deep and rugged and made her throat tighten. Historia did as she was told, trying to clear her throat without anyone noticing. "Lean and look at the window."

She did so, then he frowned. "Hold on put your arm there."

She did. He sighed. "May I touch you?"

Historia nodded breathlessly, and then his hands (good lord where they always that big?) Were at her shoulders and guiding her into position. Then his fingers gently pulled her hair over her ear, exposing her neck, and sliding under her jaw into position.

"Look out the window," his voice was so close and his touch so feather-light on her skin she shivered and did as she was told. She thought how this was so dangerous... until he whispered...

"Perfect."

Her cheeks burned, her fingers clenched for a moment and she focused on staying still. It wasn't a difficult position, but she could barely breathe. It was an age before the fifteen minutes finished. 

When she looked back up and was surrounded by the other students, her heart had tumbled to the ground when she realized he had wordlessly packed his things and disappeared.

"Hey."

Historia had paused by one of the vending machines near the entrance of the art wing, contemplating an iced coffee over a fruity tea she had never tried before when she heard him. She gives a little jump before turning.

Eren is standing by the main doors, leaning with a phone in his hand, large sketchbook under his arm, looking stupidly attractive with that gray leather satchel strap pressing over his chest, pulling his shirt and exposing his collarbone like that. His hair is down. Historia is going to drown before she could get a word in.

"H...yes?" She catches herself from repeating after him.

"We went to high-school together, didn't we?"

The way he asks didn't leave it up to her to answer, as if he just realized it as truth. Historia blinks before nodding.

"Yeah. We did."

"Chemistry."

"Huh?"

Eren shifts against the wall, lowering his phone to tug into his black jeans pocket, olive green shirt barely coming down to his wrists. God, even his wrists looked attractive. Something was up with her, Historia just knows. She hadn't gotten any since Ymir left to Liberio or wherever the hell.

"We had Chemistry."

Oh my God.

"Yeah. We did." She says and tries to smile and sound accommodating. "The years sure flew by, huh?"

"Yeah," he says. And then his eyes flick down to her feet before traveling back up. Historia bristles, heart racing as she realizes he just checked her out. (He totally did, didn't he!?)

"Got anywhere to be?" Eren pushes off the wall and approaches her, practically towering at her side. Historia takes an instinctual step back as he rounded her and presses a button on the vending machine. Her dollar goes to use on a drink she doesn't know anything about.

"Huh? Oh, ah... no. Not really."

"Cool," he says as the bottle clatters on the bottom, bending down to scoop it out. Historia's hands wrap around the strap of her purse, failing then to not take the opportunity to let her eyes wander down his back and towards his butt. He offers her the drink just as she snaps her gaze back up to his face. She takes it mindlessly. "Wanna hang out?"

"Wh--right now?" She asks, fingers tingling at the cold touch of the canned drink. He shrugs.

"Yeah. Unless you don't, then that's cool."

A part of her has no idea what to do or say about his offer, another does and immediately takes over her mouth while she tries and fails not to openly stare at the hint of collarbone his shirt invites her to look at.

"Sure. Yes. Yeah... okay."

He's standing pretty close, she can smell something smokey on him... and then she notices some dust on his pants.

"You do woodworks too?"

Eren doesn't react for a moment before tilting his head and smiles a little bit. It disarms her, a perfect smile that disappears as he glances over his shoulder. 

"Why don't we catch up while we grab something to eat. You like sandwiches?"

"Oh I've been prone to dabble..."

She wants to kick herself at her response but his smile returns and he takes a step back towards the doors.

"Have you dabbled at Niccolo's?" 

She swears she's going to fall, her fingertips barely brushing against the opposite wall to keep her from slipping off the edge, but Eren's hands are large and steady and don't let go of her hips as he slams his hips into hers--cock pounding into that sweet spot of hers so good, she's moaning wild with abandon.

One of those thrusts hits good enough that she jerks, her legs twitching oh so hard but ohhh so good around his hips. He's already made her come on his mouth, invited her to sit on his face where she had been eager to make a throne and enjoy it.

Being flipped like this and pushed so far off the edge of the bed so soon after coming oh so good above him is beyond wild. Her head hangs off and bounces with the rhythm of his thorough fucking, and since she's trying hard to match each thrust with her hips, she has no choice but to reach unsteadily for the wall.

He's loud but contained, hard grunts and heavy breathing that he scalds her skin with every time he decides to duck down and dig his teeth against her breasts, nipples worn bright pink and sensitive at his eager sucking and broad licking.

"F-fuck, you feel amazing," he says through another harsh breath, another firm thrust, another loud whine that hiccups out of her mouth to bounce against her ears.

"Nn! Yes! Oh God--Oh!"

And she thinks she just manages to get enough hold on the wall before he's pulling out and dragging her down the bed. Historia squeaks, the world goes spinny-spin, and suddenly he's under her, sliding her back down on his cock and grinning up at her--same stupid perfect grin that drives the blood in her so excited that she can't catch up.

"Ride me."

The blood rushes from her face and she needs no other invitation. She starts bouncing her hips, grinding her clit against his pubic bone until she sees stars and finds that perfect friction she's always needed. Her eyes fall from the popcorn ceiling of his dorm room, dragging back down to where her underwear lays thrown over the chair by his desk, blouse and bra covering his laptop. It's almost shameful but she can't help but really like seeing how the pink of her clothes adds a splash to his green and blue world.

Her head hits the mattress and she gives another cry of surprise, only this time her eyes land on his, seeing him grinning down at her under the curtain of his black hair and look sexy as all fuck.

"Never thought I'd ever land a cheerleader," he says and it's almost too much on the side of sounding like an absolute douche canoe, but there's an honest amusement in his eyes that tells her he's having fun and not meaning it in any way demeaning.

"Cheerleading Captain," Historia replies, grinning up at him as she lets him fold her legs up to her chest. 

"My bad, Captain." He says and Historia cries out as he resumes driving his hips into her. The clap of their hips, the loud squelch of her pussy wetly accepting him in fills her ears as she digs her hands in his sheets and whines.

"Ah! So deep! Oh! Eren!!"

He brings her to climax like this, knees practically pressed besides her ears, cock pounding mercilessly into that spot deep inside, and then his tongue is in her mouth as she twitches and screams, body seizing and spasming oh so, so good.

He comes shortly after, thank God. Those final thrusts having slown down enough to make the drag of his cock even more potent against her twitching walls. It's a perfect way to end her climax, slow and steady, dragging it on and on until she gasps and shivers, nerves vibrating like thousands of stars coming to light.

To her relief he doesn't collapse on top of her, pulling out to crash beside her on his bed and making no slow effort to scoop her against his side for them to ride their orgasms out together.

She's still breathing hard when he gently tilts her chin up and drags a slow kiss over her lips and tongue. Historia follows it easily, letting him have his way. After all that? It's the least she can do.

"Ugh," she mutters, loopy and smiling too big for her face to handle. "can't believe I just fucked an artist."

"Technically," he replies over their tongues slipping and sliding together, mouth pulling at her bottom lip. "An artist fucked you."

Historia snorts and laughs, "Fair point. Though your skill in the first round got you this far."

"Lucky me," he says and pushes her onto her back, and for the next ten minutes they make out until someone knocks loudly on his door.

Eren tries to ignore them, pulling her chin to keep their kissing going and she's more than eager to let him but the loud pounding on his door is distracting.

"EREN!" 

He groans and breaks their kiss with an exasperated huff, "fucking Horse face-- What!?"

Historia covers her mouth to hide a giggle and he throws her a side smile. He's leaning down to kiss her again until--

"Asshole, you said you would help me with my term project! It's been two hours!!"

"I'm BUSY!" He throws over his shoulder, aggravation making his brows furrow in a way she finds too cute. Call it orgasmic high but she can't stop herself touching him either and tenderly pinches his nose. He huffs at that in surprise to which she responds with another grin.

"Is that Jean?" 

"EREN, YOU SWORE TO ME!"

Eren sighed, "yeah, you remember Jean. Lacrosse player back in high school, dyed his hair pink near the end of senior year."

Historia’s eyes brighten, "I forgot that happened!"

"EREN!!"

"Wasn't that part of the senior prank?" She says, shivering a little when his own exploration guides his hand to slide down and caress her side and hips, thumb teasing her thighs. 

"Yeah, made that year less sucky than it was--Alright! ALRIGHT!" Eren snaps toward the door again, this time dropping his head against her shoulder in defeat. It doesn't stop Jean's obnoxious knocking on the door.

"I'LL BE RIGHT OUT!" He says as he moves to push off of her, he pauses for a moment before ducking down and kissing her cheek. "Sorry."

Historia blushes and shakes her head, sitting up to cover herself in one of his green sheets. "It's fine, I'll let myself out."

He'd throwing his pants on before he looks back at her, and there's an earnest desire in his eyes that takes her by surprise for a moment. 

"What are you doing tomorrow?"

"Huh?" That stops her short.

"EREN!"

He whirls around and yanks the door open, bright light from the hallway pouring in. "Jean, I will punch your dick in, give me ONE minute. I'll be right out."

"Fucking finally," Jean says, throwing his hands in the air before curiously trying to peek over Eren's shoulder. Eren's hand finds his face instead and shoves him out before closing the door again.

Eren turns around, giving Historia a show as his pulls a hair band from around his wrist with his teeth to hold on to while he tugs his hair up into another bun. She doesn't stop ogling him as he looks at her.

"Tomorrow? Plans?"

"O-oh," it snaps her back to reality and she lifts her knees to her chest. "Um... no. I'm free."

He grins again, "Cool. My art final is coming up... would you want to be my model?"

At that she deflates a bit, fingers clenching around the fabric of his sheets. "Oh. Sure... this... all this wasn't a way for me to say yes to help you... was it?"

Eren stops as he pulls a shirt on, before he shakes his head, "Oh, nonono, no this... no. This was completely unattached to that."

Historia's lips purse a bit but she nods. He surprises her by stepping in close and sitting at the edge, leaning down to caress a soft kiss to the corner of her mouth.

"This was a long time coming," he murmurs. Her eyes break open from the trance of accepting and chasing after his kiss. 

She doesn't know what he means before he pulls away and smiles again, "My phone is on the table. My passcode is 2344. Leave me your number and I'll call you."

Without warning, he disappears out the door and Historia is left in the messy remains of one of the best nights of sex she's had in a long time. She takes a second to look at herself, her neck and chest stings with the splatter of hickeys he had ravished on her chest. She's still tingly and her body throbs in places that worry her a bit about the aftermath tomorrow morning. Her mind recalls the fresh sensation of Eren sliding deep inside her, pounding and thrusting into her so good her toes curl and squeeze. 

Her belly swoops in tired arousal and she grins again to herself. It was amazing. 

Slowly, she pushes herself up to her feet and marvels at her own body. He certainly likes leaving marks. Historia sighs at that and starts picking up her clothes to put on.

She's in her hot pink bra and jeans when she grabs her long sleeved blouse and finds the composition notebook, hidden only slightly by a larger sketchbook titled ART FUNDAMENTALS. She gives a small start, eyes wide in surprise. Curiously, she pulls it out from under the other large collection of sketches. She recognizes the amalgamation of colors into the white spaces, the spine worn almost to oblivion and pieces of scotch tape hold on to where years had bitten through the black binding.

She opens it and the pages flutter, and she's back in that Chemistry class, the pages betraying a hidden part of Eren's mind that is so beautiful it made her see him differently from this one boy caught between two other faces she doesn't remember much of. The puma gazes at her in a flash, a gnarled tree made out of word art and a Pablo Neruda poem about shadows and souls. 

And then a pair of eyes. 

Historia stops, her mouth dropping. They're the same eyes she sees every morning when she wakes up and every night before she goes to bed. Another page, she's sitting on a park bench, expression serene as Ymir's hands (because of course they are) gently pull her hair from her forehead. 

Another portrait, this time with words making the strands of her hair and pouring down her shoulders. 

Anybody else would be surprised. Probably disturbed. But it makes her heart stammering, her eyes widen. 

Her whole life... she'd seen herself as yet another stitch in in world’s boring tapestry. A nobody whose mother hated her and left her to fend for herself in a house full of half siblings that blamed her for their parent's broken marriage. She was just another snide and angry person, only feeling sparks of joy in a relatively loveless life. Her story was nothing special.

And here she was... seeing herself as a work of art. And she remembers Ymir telling her before she left two years ago, " _for once in your life, Historia. Do something selfish and stop living for everyone else."_

Historia closes the notebook and places it back in its spot. 

She comes out to hearing Eren and Jean bickering about sanding something or other and pauses to slip his phone in his pocket and squeezing his hand. Her fingers fitting around his, even in that short moment, feels right. 

He pauses to glance down at her, and when his eyes meet hers, there's a gleam there that reminds her of the hands he pressed on her, like he pressed to paper, and made her feel like a masterpiece.

"Tomorrow?"

He smiles that infuriating smile that makes her want to kiss him, and they kissed a lot already, but this is already in a way that's scary and she's only ever felt with Ymir.

"Tomorrow."


End file.
